But it supported the possibility that the search and potential seizure were planned in advance.
The younger officer's statement became important.
He remembered the sergeant mentioning that the car might be impounded.
The veteran officer confirmed that a towing contractor had been discussed before the stop.
And the sergeant's own unfinished inventory form contained the anticipated silver drive.
Then the contractor's records supervisor provided another detail.
The operations manager had instructed a dispatcher to keep a heavy-duty recovery truck available near the financial district that afternoon.
The dispatcher was confused.
The vehicle described in the request was an extremely valuable custom supercar requiring specialized handling.
The company usually scheduled such recoveries carefully.
But the manager insisted that the assignment was urgent.
The dispatcher entered the information.
Then received a cancellation shortly after the two Internal Affairs SUVs arrived.
The timestamps were preserved.
The investigators compared the cancellation with the traffic-stop records.
The timing was almost exact.
The contractor had been preparing to receive the supercar.
The police were preparing to inventory it.
And the lead sergeant had been searching for a silver device before he possessed any documented basis for believing that item was inside the vehicle.
The arrangement was no longer easy to explain as coincidence.
The municipal deputy director received notice that investigators wanted to interview him the following week.
He contacted an attorney immediately.
He also called the Harborline executive.
The businessman sounded furious.
“You said the officers could handle it.”
The deputy director remained quiet.
The executive continued.
“Now my company is all over the news.”
The official looked toward the closed office door.
“Stop discussing this by phone.”
The businessman laughed bitterly.
“That's your answer?”
“We need counsel.”
“We needed you to keep the audit under control!”
The deputy director closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he said, “I never told anybody to assault that woman.”
The businessman became quiet.
The official continued.
“I never told anybody to damage her car.”
The executive lowered his voice.
“You told us the evidence needed to be recovered.”
The deputy director stared at the desk.
He had spent years convincing himself that his decisions were administrative.
Approve this.
Delay that.
Clarify a report.
Refer a complaint to another office.
He rarely saw the people affected by those decisions.
He saw records.
Accounts.
Contracts.
And numbers.
The health aide's missing sedan had been just another entry in a database.